Eye of the Storm
by Pimino
Summary: Michelangelo was born blind. While his three overprotective brothers struggle to give him a life worth living, Mikey desperately accepts an opportunity that could offer him everything he lacks. But after being confined to a world of uncertainty and inexperience for over fifteen years, he didn't recognize his sight came with a price. {2k12, Blind!Mikey, Angst & Brotherly Fluff}
1. Chapter 1

_Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep…_

Mikey lazily rolled over onto his side, slapping out his limp hand. The wailing alarm clock abruptly ceased as his fingers pounded into the snooze button. Heaving out a lengthy sigh, the youngest turtle swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached his arms out wide. His routine morning stretches, though, were cut short as he shivered in the cool breeze of the lair.

_Dang vent, _Mikey grudgingly thought, listening to the faint wheezing and sputtering of the wore-down outlet that resided above his bed. It kinda reminded him of someone gently snoring, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. It often alarmed him in the middle of the night. _Need to get D to fix that…_

Juggling that thought around in his sleep-deprived head, Mikey stood with a little more jump in his step than usual. Although his limbs screamed with drowsiness and a hint of soreness accompanied it, the goofy turtle paid no attention to the sensation. Today was Monday, which meant –

"No training!" he happily breathed to himself. Rolling a few kinks out of his shoulder, Mikey strained his ears as he listened to the faint echoes of someone moving about the lair. The creaking of floorboards, the clanging of metal, and the gently murmuring voices made him smile. Mornings were always his favorite; it reminded him that a new page in his book had opened and was waiting to be written. Not to mention the fact that Raph was usually too tired to attack him for his silly mistakes.

A deliciously familiar aroma wafted into Mikey's nose and his mouth instantly watered in response. That was the third-best part of Mondays; Donnie always made killer pancakes.

Mikey began towards the bedroom door, making sure to slightly shorten his third stride. There was a crack in the concrete floor he had come to memorize – or rather his _feet_ had memorized ever since he stubbed a particularly sensitive toe a few years back. Lightly trailing his fingertips over the general area where the doorknob should be, Mikey quickly located the circular metal and twisted it open.

"Mmm, D, it smells awesome in here!" the youngest praised as he turned the kitchen corner. His fingers, once again, skimmed the surface of the cool brick walls to direct his motions. Eventually his arm dropped back to his side as Mikey made his way in the direction of the kitchen table. When his outstretched hand felt the smooth surface of the wooden tabletop, he began to clumsily fumble around for a chair, smirking in confusion as he did so.

Seconds passed by, and soon enough, irritation flowered within him. It shouldn't be _this_ hard; the chair should be a little to the left... right?

Finally, without question, a calloused hand landed on top of his wrist, gently guiding it to the right. The youngest's palm soon rested on a solid figure and Mikey pulled out the wooden chair, plopping into it.

"G'morning, Mike," Leonardo warmly greeted from somewhere beside him, the fingers leaving his wrist.

Mikey broke out into a bright, signature grin as he began to return the greeting, but his nose turned up at an odd scent. "Urgh, Leo, are you drinking tea again?" He sniffed the air once more and playfully stuck his tongue out. "That stuff's nasty!"

"Someone's a little ray of sunshine today," Donnie muttered playfully in the background. There was a loud shuffling noise, and Mikey soon felt his scientific brother's presence directly behind him. "I made sure to prepare your plate of pancakes first this time. I wouldn't want World War III breaking out again like yesterday."

"Hey!" Mikey defensively exclaimed even as he hungrily reached for his fork, which should be a little more upwards and to the left and… aha! Grasping the cold metal in his hand, the youngest continued with, "S'not my fault that you didn't make enough food for bothme _and_ Raph. The dude could eat a mountain of pancakes and still only have his hunger meter halfway full."

Leo good-naturedly chuckled in amusement and Mikey shoved a forkful of the delectable fluffy food in his mouth. He always wondered what pancakes looked like. He had Donnie explain to him once, but that was a long time ago. Besides, it's not like he understood what he was talking about. What was the color 'golden'? What did 'fluffy' look like? What does 'thick' in 'thick syrup' appear to other people?

They're questions he always had, but answers he never received. And frankly, by this point, he had gotten used to the fact that he was always going to be in the dark- literally.

"So Leo," Donnie staarted, drifting into Mikey's thoughts. A scrape of wood against concrete announced he was now sitting at the table with his two brothers as well. "I saw a handful of Foot moving around today on the cameras I set up last patrol. Think it's anything?"

Mikey thoughtfully chewed and Leo replied, "Maybe. We can't jump to conclusions though. We'll go check it out tonight and see if there's any activity still occurring."

_Wait- patrol?_

At this, Mikey forced himself to swallow and- nearly choking on the barely chewed food- exclaimed, "Can I go this time Leo? _Please?"_

It was instinct for him to beg his older brother for the simple pleasure of going on patrol these days. He never realized how much he missed hopping around the rooftops of New York City like an eager bunny until one day, (more specifically four weeks ago,) Leo decided it was becoming too dangerous with the swelling amount of enemy activity. Hope was all Mikey had left whenever the mention of their daily patrol came up in their conversations.

His faith began to deteriorate, though, as it took five seconds too long for the leader to reply. Biting the inside of his cheek, Mikey directed his gaze to the general area in which Leonardo was sitting. He tried his best to wear his feelings of yearning/anguish on his face, although it was hard since he never had someone else to learn from. It was the simplest skills such as tying his mask, tightening his belt- or in this case- looking like a disheartened puppy that gave Mikey the most trouble. But he knew he must've been doing _something_ right when finally, after several moments, Leo sighed.

"I don't know, Mikey. What if there really is something going on? We don't need anyone to get hurt."

"Who says I'll get hurt?" the orange clad turtle reasoned. "Come on, Leo! I haven't been topside in _forever_ dude! A turtle can only do so much when they're stuck in some mucky sewers."

"Technically," Donnie began, and Mikey's shoulders instinctively slouched in response, "we've spent fifteen years down in these 'mucky sewers', so what's a few more days?"

"'Cause a few more days will turn into a few more weeks and then a few more months…" Mikey drifted off, tapping his fork dishearteningly against the side of the table. He of all people knew it was hard to get their stubborn leader to agree to something Leo already had his mind set on.

_So why does it still hurt so much?_

Leo looked over his baby brother's slouched figure with remorse, an all-too-familiar pang of guilt clawing at his stomach.

"I'm sorry Mike, I just don't want to put you in harm's way," he tried to soothe. "It's nothing personal."

_Yeah, right._

"I know," Mikey reluctantly sighed, his own hunger meter suddenly reaching 100%. He pushed away the plate and could almost feel the disapproving frown on Donnie's face boring into the side of his head. Somewhere deep inside of him, Mikey knew that the frown's roots came from concern, yet the negative energy associated with it twisted his gut.

"Whoa," Raphael remarked as he strolled into the kitchen, every step laced with lingering grogginess. He saw the deep sulk pulling at the edges of Mikey's mouth as he maneuvered his way over to the table. "Why's the clown sad?"

Immediately, Mikey felt Leo shift next to him. It was a subtle difference in the air, but the youngest knew that his brother was in motion, even if small. It's a skill he was forced to learn since he 'had a disability', as Splinter would put it.

His assumption of movement was made clear as Raph suddenly stopped talking. Mikey inwardly groaned. Of course Leo would shut the hothead up; the eldest was constantly patrolling each and every sentence that was thrown in Mikey's direction just to make sure it wasn't offensive in any way. Mikey thought it was ridiculous but hey, if it makes Leo feel better then so be it. Who's Mikey to tell him to stop being so considerate- even though it _did_ come off as mother hen-ish?

Raphael cleared his throat as he attempted to change the direction of the conversation.

"Anyways, you forgot your mask again," he stated as he came up beside Mikey. The youngest felt a soft fabric touch the skin surrounding his eyes as Raph secured the knot behind his head.

"Thanks," he murmured warmly. Raph gave him a comforting pat on the back before grabbing the large heap of pancakes Donnie handed over.

o-o-o

_To the left._

Relying on his instincts and muscle memory alone, Mikey swiftly avoided the blow targeting his head. The barely distinguishable vibrations in the nearby air (and the lack of sudden pain he was expecting) wordlessly told the orange-banded turtle the incoming attack was unsuccessful, thankfully. As soon as he was even on his feet again, Mikey strained his advanced defensive senses. The air shifted slightly.

_Duck._

More of a response than a reaction, he nimbly lowered his head as the bo staff cut through the air. Knowing that the ever-thinking Donnie was most likely planning his next attack, Mikey saw his golden opportunity and advanced. The soft creaking of the floorboards indicated that his intellect brother was to the… right and about… three steps forward. That was all the information he needed.

Mikey grinned as he swung out his left fist. As expected, Donnie avoided the blow as he swiftly danced away to the right. However, Mikey's second fist was there first. And so was his leg.

Blinking in surprise, Donnie barely had time to register what was happening before a balled fist came in contact with his jaw, followed by a merciless roundhouse kick to the chest. He flew backwards and groaned as his tail hit the wooden floors of the dojo. Shaking his head free of the stars, Don grasped his bo staff even tighter as Mikey began towards him again. The clouded, baby blue eyes were fixed above Donnie yet the genius turtle got a disturbing impression that Mikey knew exactly what he was doing. Unless…

Just as his goofy younger brother was within two feet of him, Don pounced to his feet and promptly yet silently dove _over _his sparring partner. It wasn't a move the ninja team practiced often, and Donnie had decided that this was the perfect opportunity to try it out without too dire of consequences.

The top of his head lightly skimmed over the top of Mikey's as he did a brief flip. The waves of confusion emancipating from his baby brother was almost overwhelming, and for a second, Don almost felt guilty for throwing his brother into this situation. But his head was cleared as soon as his feet touched the ground with scarcely practiced accuracy, and Donnie swung his weapon to Mikey's feet.

A bell of victory seemed to chime in the back of Donnie's head as the youngest went down _hard, _landing heavily onto his shell. It might seem wrong to feel so accomplished, but the resident genius simply could not get it out of his mind that his 'disabled' brother had come close to beating him in a simple spar. That would have been an unbelievable upset.

"Aw man," Mikey grumbled as Donnie grabbed his hand and helped him up. "I was so close this time!" He rubbed the back of his head which had slammed against the floor when he fell, and painfully winced. "Not cool, D."

Don shrugged and sympathetically smiled at his brother in reassurance. "It's okay, Mikey. You'll get it next time."

_Sure I will._

"Indeed," a deeper voice agreed, making Donnie and Mikey straighten up in automatic respect. Mikey felt his father approaching them and slightly bowed in response as Splinter stopped in front of him. "You have been working hard, Michelangelo. However you must remember that your enemy will not stay down after they have merely fallen. You must be prepared for the unexpected. We shall work on that next training session. For today, though, we are done."

"Hai, Sensei," Mikey acknowledged, a flitter of disappointment rushing through him. He should've known that. He should've seen Donnie's little surprise attack coming before the scientist even attempted it. He should've known.

Donnie brushed lightly against Mikey's shoulder as he made his way out of the training room, beginning to babble about his most recent project that was _still_ yet to be completed. Mikey had no doubt in his mind that the Mad Scientist was making a beeline straight for his reclusive, depressing, and cluttered lab. Again.

As that thought tumbled in his mind something warm then touched his arm, snagging him back to reality, and Mikey soon recognized it as a hand.

"You comin' Mike? Thought you'd be the _first_ one to leave training," Raph teased from beside him.

Mikey rolled out his exhausted shoulders and tried his best smile. "Yeah. Do you know if we have any pizza left?"

Raph blew of huff of laughter and Mikey heard his voice getting farther and farther away as the hothead began towards the dojo exit. "Dunno. Probably. I'll go see." And with that, he left.

Mikey started after him, his hand searching for a wall to grasp onto, but a soft, motionless presence behind him made him stop a few feet short of the dojo doors.

"Leo, aren't you hungry?" he asked, his hand finally locating a firm wall. A sense of relief flooded through him at his discovery before he playfully quipped, "I don't think anyone's gonna bring you pizza if you stay meditating in here all day again."

Mikey heard Leo let out a breath of slight amusement before sobering quickly, as if he shouldn't have laughed in the first place.

"I'll, uh, come out later," he said with a smile that went unseen. "I need to talk to Master Splinter for a second is all."

It wasn't the monotone, straight-to-the-point way that the words were uttered in that peaked his curiosity; rather it was the uncertain, thoughtful tone that Leo had desperately yet futilely tried to hide that instantly told Mikey something was up. Leo rarely ever had to have a private "chat" with their father, and when he did, big news was usually announced to the rest of the family afterwards. Mikey nearly shivered at the memory of Leo announcing that pizza was no longer going to be a daily meal.

Red warning flags flew wildly in the back of Mikey's head, but he managed to simply nod and say, "Okay," before resting his palm flat against his guiding wall. Drumming his fingers as he hummed, Mikey trailed them to the dojo exit and quietly slipped out. Then, as soon as he located the handles and slid the doors shut, he frowned and rested his ear against them.

A few silent seconds went by, and Mikey was practically on his toes as the anticipation filled him. He beginning to doubt if anyone was still _in _the dojo before Splinter softly asked, "Is there something the matter, Leonardo?"

Mikey heard the faint creaking of floorboards and promptly concluded that Leo was sitting down at their Master's feet, as per usual whenever in the presence of their Sensei. The sound of his leader sighing soon followed the gentle squeaking of wood as Leo finally murmured, "Well, yes. It's more of a question though."

"And what would this question be?"

"I'm wondering if-…" He paused, swallowing. "Do you think Mikey should-… should come with us? I know this isn't the first time I've had this problem, but now I'm starting to have some... doubts. Maybe it would be best if Mikey just stayed down here tonight."

The last sentence was more of a question than a suggestion. In the nail-biting silence that followed, Mikey nearly fell through the paper-lined door as he waited for his father's response. He knew the next sentence would determine his freedom; he could practically feel the burning hope gnawing away at his bones. Mikey would give _anything_ just to go on the surface again.

_Why doesn't anyone else understand that?_

"I do not believe that is my decision to make," Splinter said after ten agonizing seconds too long. Mikey's confusion at the words was cleared up as his sensei continued, "As leader, you should do what you believe is right, not what others tell you or ask of you."

"But Master Splinter, Mikey… he's just…"

Mikey felt his eyes narrow in newfound suspicion. He's just what?

Leo sighed in a lost sort of way. "I don't know how to explain it, but he's just difficult, Sensei. Difficult for me to understand, I mean."

There was a pause, before:

"I know this is a hard decision to make, but you cannot rely on others to carry the weight of the decisions you are bound to make. However, I will provide you with this piece of advice; although your brother may have a disadvantage when it comes to his ninjitsu skills, Michelangelo still has desires that need to be met. The question is whether or not his wishes are worth his safety when situations become difficult."

"Y-Yes, I am aware of that, Master."

Leo went eerily silent after that, and Mikey suddenly felt a bubble of anger burst somewhere in his gut. Of _course_ Leo will think that he should stay home. Why had he even bothered to go to their Sensei for advice? The Fearless Leader is so stubborn and narrow-minded that he won't even consider to take Mikey's feelings into consideration either.

And by this point, Mikey was tired of it.

_So why am I still putting up with it?_

With that self-defeating thought twisting and turning in his mind, Mikey pulled away from the door and trailed his fingers across the walls until he reluctantly reached the kitchen. Even the smell of baking pizza didn't lift his spirits in the slightest.

* * *

**A/N**

**It would be the world to receive feedback. Hugs and cookies to those who do(:**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

At the kitchen table, Mikey was silent and withdrawn. He never engaged the conversations nor did he answer questions with more than one syllable words. His outlandish behavior struck a feeling of curiosity in both Raph and Donnie, but neither of them questioned the youngest, fearing that if they did, an eruption of unknown emotions would burst from the goofiest member of the family.

Unknown to his two clueless brothers, the fact that Leo never came to receive a slice of pizza like he said he would silently drove Mikey up the wall. Not only was the youngest still seething over the "chat" his leader and his father had, but Leo's absence at the kitchen table added fuel to Mikey's blazing fire of anger.

However, instead of voicing his concerns, Mikey irritably bit the inside of his cheek, picking at his cold pizza with antsy fingers. His fidgety actions didn't go unnoticed, though. As soon as his plate was swept clean, Donnie abruptly stood and made a tactical retreat for his reclusive lab in order to escape the tense atmosphere his baby brother was creating. Then, it was just Raph and Mikey.

"Didn't think I'd ever see the day where you didn't finish at least two entire pizzas," Raphael remarked when Mikey finally pushed the plate away. Once again, Mikey only gave a slight head nod and the corner of his mouth weakly lifted in an attempt of a smile. Frowning, Raph added, "What's wrong?"

_Excuse, excuse – I need an excuse!_

Mikey simply shook his head and quietly stated, "Tired."

"That explains why you were bouncing off the walls durin' training," Raph dubiously said, his ever-present sarcasm woven tightly to his words. "Just tell me, Mike. I won't say a word to Fearless, Don, or Splinter if that's what you're worried about."

"It's nothing; I promise."

Raphael rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You don't exactly have a clear history with your 'promises', Mike. Dr. Prankenstein and I have had a few good runs over the years if you ask me. So just tell me what's botherin' you."

Mikey suddenly went quiet, and Raph could practically see the gears working in his younger brother's head as Mikey decided whether or not to open up his heart. But a few seconds later, Mikey simply stated, "Nothing."

"Nothing my ass," Raphael grumbled with a frown. "You're an awful liar, you know that? You should just –"

"I'm _fine_!" Mikey snapped, his clouded eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. Instead of feeling remorse from riling his visibly pained brother, a familiar surge of anger ripped through Raphael like a hurricane. He opened his mouth to argue –

"Guys, the Foot are on the move. Look at the cameras," Donnie blurted as he burst into the kitchen. He teetered his laptop on the palm of his hand as he made his way over to the table, completely unaware of the minor argument that had just occurred. Mikey slouched back in his chair with a frown as he heard the _thump _of the computer rest on top of the wooden surface.

_It's not like I can see what's happening on the screen anyways._

"The hell?" Raphael questioned after a few moments of studying the glowing screen. "What are they carryin'?"

"Don't know," Donnie replied. "I'm guessing that whatever it is, it's not good news – at least, not in the Foot's hands. There are a ton of boxes, but none of them have been opened, so I can't see what's inside them. It's not like I expected them to make this _easy_ for me or anything…"

Raphael cursed underneath his breath as he continued to watch the live video. "Can't see a damn thing," he groaned, his chair squeaking as he leaned closer to the screen with squinting eyes. "Pourin' cats and dogs out there."

"That's the other problem," Donatello sighed as he rubbed a hand behind his neck. "We can't see where they're going. There's a limited range of visibility since it's raining so hard."

Mikey almost bitterly laughed at the last sentence. _"Limited range of visibility,"_ he grimly thought as he deepened the uncharacteristic frown which rested on his face. _"Tell me about it."_

"What's wrong?"

All three turtles jumped at the demanding voice. Mentally, Mikey degraded himself for not hearing his older brother coming long before Leo had announced his presence.

_Fifteen years of training your hearing and you're _still _slacking…_

While Donnie and Raph had to turn around to greet Leonardo, Mikey continued to stare blankly ahead. He could already feel the argument that was sure to come, but that doesn't mean he was going to give into Leo either. In this world, you are either a commander or a follower. And Mikey believes he's been trailing behind everyone else for far too long.

"Foot," Raphael answered, shattering Mikey's thoughts. "They got a shitload of boxes, but we can't see anything."

"Are they still out there?" Leo questioned, coming to a stand beside Mikey as he glanced at the computer screen. Mikey almost cringed away from his presence but miraculously managed to keep his body in a somewhat natural position.

"Yes; I think they'll be out there for a while. There's a lot of them, so it's taking longer than it would have with a small delivery. I would be surprised if Karai wasn't expecting _someone_ to get suspicious with all this activity," Donnie answered with a thoughtful expression plastered onto his face.

Raph, still straining his eyes to study the screen, asked, "You saying she's expecting us to come or something?"

"Most likely. She's a little on the dark side, but she's smart nonetheless."

"We're going," Leo suddenly stated without missing a beat. At this, Mikey cautiously sat back up in his chair with interest.

"And I'm going too, right?" he questioned, drumming his fingers nervously against his knee underneath the table. He wondered if he sounded too accusatory but quickly dismissed the thought. Leo didn't know Mikey was listening to his little "chat", so as long as Mikey doesn't give anything away, Leo won't have a problem.

However, silence is all that greeted his question. It lasted for far too long, and eventually, Mikey felt the slight shift in the air as Donnie uncomfortably shuffled on his feet. A few more long-suffering seconds passed and the weight of the tense air seemed to balance itself on Mikey's shoulders, reminding the disabled turtle of the freedom Leo was holding _just_ out of his reach. Finally, Raph expectantly cleared his throat, and Leo let out a breathy sigh. Mikey held his breath.

"No, Mike, you're staying here."

He was expecting this. He was completely anticipating this answer.

_So why do I suddenly feel sick?_

Michelangelo abruptly stood up, kicking his chair behind him with more force than intended. Instead of the pulsating anger he was expecting to be filled with, a harsh wetness accumulated in the corners of his eyes. "Th-That's not fair! I want to go too! Dude, you can't just expect me to stay down here for the rest of my life!"

"I don't expect that, Michelangelo," Leo resolutely retorted. However, everyone in the room could hear the soft hint added to his words. "But for now, you will stay down here. It's too risky with all those Foot soldiers, and not to mention the heavy rain. Maybe another ti –"

"There won't _be_ another time, and you know it!" Mikey all but yelled. Blinking rapidly, he futilely attempted to flush the tears from his irises. "This is the hundredth time you said I couldn't go! _Please_, bro!"

"We… We need to go, Leo," Donatello nervously interrupted. Mikey could hardly hear his purple clad brother shifting his weight from foot to foot over his heavy breathing. "If we wait any longer they're going to be gone."

Leo swallowed heavily and looked at his baby brother's face who was not looking at him in return. The cloudy baby blue eyes were focused dead ahead, but Leo knew he was still being addressed by Mikey. It's something you got used to. "Mikey, I know that this is hard to understand, but –"

"You've got to be kidding," Mikey quietly mumbled, slumping backwards into his chair in heavy defeat. His sharp memory miscalculated where he had pushed his seat back, though, and before he could do anything about it, he ended up slamming his funny bone into the corner of the backrest.

Yelping in pain, Mikey grasped his trifling injury and fought back incoming tears once more. Whether the water threatening to leak from his eyes was from pain or frustration, he wouldn't know. All the fight within him vanished just as quickly as it came, leaving him oddly weak and unstable as he massaged his incessantly tingling elbow.

Suddenly he realized – or rather _felt_ – that all eyes were on him. And he also came to notice how no one reached out to ask if he was okay.

_They must be used to my screw-ups by now..._

Those irksome tears of his came flooding back even stronger, but he fiercely pushed them away, dropping his throbbing arm as he irritably 'relaxed' into his chair. In the devastating hush of the kitchen, he sniffled once but thought nothing more of the harsh sadness threatening to overwhelm him.

_No, I'm not going to cry. I'm not._

"Next time, Mike," Raph softly attempted to reassure after many moments of silence. "Promise. Alright?"

Michelangelo didn't respond. He simply rested his good elbow on the tabletop and put his head into his palm, refusing to acknowledge his brothers' quiet goodbyes as they slipped out the lair. As soon as they were gone, all promises made to himself to not cry went straight to hell. A single tear filled with swimming emotions escaped his misty blue eyes, but he swiftly swiped it away when his common sense whipped him right across the face. Why is he so upset this time? He has been through this multiple times; it's not anything new.

_But maybe that's the problem. I've gotten too used to it._

"Michelangelo." Mikey nearly jumped out of his shell at his Master's voice. Splinter was the only one who could catch him by surprise. The experienced, aged rat can move as swiftly and quietly as he pleases, making it harder for the youngest turtle to pinpoint his location sometimes.

Blinking away a few lingering tears, Mikey respectfully replied with the strongest voice he could muster up, "Yes, Sensei?"

"Are you okay, my son?"

"Y-Yeah." For good measure, Mikey lifted his head from his palm and gave a small smile in his father's general direction. "I'm good. Just a bit… tired."

_Tired. It's a good excuse for anything, apparently._

"Very well," Splinter replied somewhat warily. Standing, Mikey stretched his limbs and began towards the kitchen door, eager to escape any more questions that might be thrown his way. He made sure to swerve around his father when he sensed Splinter's warm body heat affecting the chilly air surrounding the rat. The sewers were hardly ever a sensible temperature considering it was underground and filled with stale, unmoving 'water'.

Trailing his fingers across the wall, Mikey walked until he felt the light switch of the kitchen, indicating he was near the exit. Before he left, the youngest gently called out behind him, "I'm gonna go lie down for a bit. Yell for me when the dudes get back."

Not waiting for a reply, Michelangelo followed his engraved mental map and made his way in the direction of his bedroom. Feeling over the surface of the first door his fingers came in contact with, Mikey assured it was indeed his bedroom after his fingertips skimmed over the small, hardly noticeable indent that resided near the doorknob. That minor dent was obtained to his door the same time Michelangelo learned in the middle of the night that his bedroom door was not, in fact, an intruder.

Slipping inside, Mikey left the door slightly ajar and waited until the barely audible squeaking of the dojo doors indicated that Splinter had gone back to meditating. Making sure to elongate his first step as to not have his toes make another undesirable greeting with that damned crack in the floor, he went three paces to the right, reached up an arm's length, a little to the left and… aha, there were his nunchucks!

It's time he took his life into his own hands.

* * *

**A/N **

**We (Pezzii and I) are so inexplicably happy that we received such positive feedback from you all! Thank you to those who left a review; it was nice to see your reactions to the first chapter(: And so, we hope you enjoyed this update as much as you did the first. By the way, hugs and cookies to those who reviewed last time and those who will hopefully review this time as well!**

**Until next time ~**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

He hadn't been topside for quite a long while. What had it been, two weeks? Maybe three, give or take. That period of time could explain why it had taken him an absurd amount of effort to merely locate and pull his way out of the sewers. Nevertheless, his searching fingers that had previously been dragging along the slimy sewer walls soon managed to grasp the rough edges of the manhole cover, and with a rather noisy scraping sound, he was finally back to the surface after two long-suffering weeks.

Mikey instantly knew it was raining even before he stuck his head out of the hole in the ground. The deep, comforting scent of the heavenly water struck his sense of smell _hard_ but made the corners of his mouth turn into a grin. It would be a lie if he said he didn't like the stormy change of weather; the warm sunshine and scarcely windy days become too boring and predictable after a while. A bit of variation in his life every now and then would keep him on his toes and open up his limited world to a new, grand experience. Too bad everyone in his family is set on the fact that everything, even Mother Nature, must be absolutely _perfect_ for him to do any sort of activity.

However, despite the heavy downfall cascading around him, the familiar sensation of New York seemingly swept Mikey right off his feet. He could feel the rumbling of cars rushing on the asphalt roads shake the ground beneath him. He could hear the brief, distant yells of frantic people calling for taxies before their fancy clothes got too wet for their liking. He could smell the cigarettes humans are so fixed on smoking mixing with the overwhelming gasoline burning in the air. Most would find the busy atmosphere of New York City to be overpowering, but Michelangelo did not. Rather he was utterly and completely delighted, almost _ecstatic. _He almost wondered what the Big Apple looked like, but quickly dismissed the thought. No use in wishing for the plainly impossible. He'll just stick to the wonderful scent, sound, (and even possible taste) of NYC. If only everyone else could see the simple pleasures he saw.

But his brief happiness could only take him so far. There were other important things to attend to. With a huff of effort, Michelangelo pulled the heavy manhole cover across the ground until he heard the soft _clatter, _announcing the circular hunk of metal had fallen back into place in the hole in the ground. He paused for a moment, wondering if he would be able to catch up with his patrolling brothers, but soon thought better of it. Although he was eager to get started on this new adventure, Mikey knew it was best if he rather had his brothers come to _him_. Tapping the manhole cover with his foot once or twice to make sure it was securely fastened, Mikey pulled out his T-Phone.

As he attempted to keep the worst of the rain from hitting the small device, he gently ran a finger across the innumerable buttons. The small bumps and dips in the custom-made phone Donatello had given him provided all the information he needed. When compared to his other brothers' T-Phones, Mikey's seemed elaborate and tedious; the alpine braille and various touchpad sound effects were fun to play around with, but hard to fully fathom – that is, for everyone who isn't experienced with lacking a certain capability.

But for Michelangelo, he had already reached a level of skill it would take years for his brothers to achieve. That, he decided while thumbing a few buttons of the phone, was a minor upside of his unique life. Soon enough, the T-Phone was softly ringing in his ear, the chime barely audible over the downpour of rain.

_"Mikey? You okay?"_

Michelangelo let out a puff of nervous air and wobbled back and forth between his two feet. "Yeah Raph, I'm fine. More than fine actually," he added as he tilted his head back and opened his mouth wide, letting a few drops of sweet rainwater plop into it. As he savored the heavenly water, he grinned wickedly and said, "But just to let you know, I'm not going back home. No matter what."

Silence.

_"Wait guys, hold up. Mikey said he… he's not-… Mikey, are you on the surface?!"_

"I really like the rain. You guys should've taken me up here before while it was storming," Mikey plainly stated, cupping a hand in front of his body and relishing the small puddle that he felt form inside of his palm.

_"Mikey, what the hell? Get back underground, right now!"_

The youngest suddenly dropped his hand, letting the collected rainwater splash onto his feet, much like his playfulness and his fruitless attempts to beat around the bush. "No."

_"No? Fuck, Mike, we don't have time for this! Get back in the damn sewers!"_

"I'm staying up here, and I'll stay up here aaa~ll night, even if you dudes don't come get me."

_"Mikey you can't – Leo back off, I'm trying to talk to him! … Yes, you idiot, I'm telling him to get to the Lair! … What the hell, Fearless, I'm working on it if you would just shut up –!"_

Mikey swiftly ended the phone call with a simple touch of his finger. He didn't exactly want to hear another round of bickering between his two eldest brothers. And so, with his imagination running wild with the thought of all the trouble he is going to get into for directly disobeying his leader, Mikey gingerly sat on the wet ground, feeling the loose gravel bite welcomingly into his leg skin. But that's not the only sensation he was focused on. He felt the fresh rain wash away his troubles, the rumbling of the Earth shake off his worries, and the pungent scent in the air muffle his anxious thoughts as he waited for his siblings' decision.

o-o-o

Michelangelo couldn't stop the subtle smile that managed to creep onto his face as he trailed his muttering, hotheaded brother. Raphael had put up quite a fight when the sai wielder finally located the youngest near the sewer entrance. Many harsh, colorful words were spoken that Splinter would most assuredly not approve of, but Mikey gave it his all when he flashed his signature puppy dog eyes, and soon enough Raph couldn't keep denying his baby brother. However, Mikey's pleadingly adorable face didn't soothe the hothead's everlasting irritation.

"Fucking Leo's gonna whip my shell…" Raphael grumbled underneath his breath for the umpteenth time, making the youngest's smile widen. The continuous snarky comments only added to the goofy turtle's happiness, but he stayed quiet. Instead, he focused on his ragged breathing. They had only been across three rooftops so far, but those minor sprints took the breath away from Mikey – and even more so when they leaped from one building to another.

"Jump short… now."

Mikey immediately obeyed the hothead's command, gasping slightly as his feet left the damp ground. He managed to keep his exhilarated mind off the fact that he was suspended in air and rather focused on the designated jumping distance. Whether the jump was short or long was a big impact on how hard the youngest catapulted his body. If he accidently managed to mess up his jumps even in the _slightest _way possible, it could lead to serious injuries. Leonardo had given him the lecture about rooftop leaping multiple times.

In fact, the leader was entirely against having this whole "spoken jumping distance" system in the first place. He complained it was too risky, too unpredictable. What if something went wrong, he said. What if Mikey doesn't listen, he questioned. What if the others accidently miscalculated the jump, he demanded to know. But after hours of convincing from Donnie, reasoning from Mikey, and continuous ranting about being over-controlling from a certain hotheaded turtle, Leonardo gave in, but not entirely happily.

_At least he listened to me about _something _for once…_

"Jump long… now."

Mikey pushed with his legs again, feeling the edge of the rooftop with his toes just as he left it. His stomach fluttered with utter joy as he sailed through the pouring rain before his feet landed on yet another rain-slicked surface of another building. But he wasn't quick enough to steady himself before his left leg slipped out from underneath him.

Yelping, Michelangelo barely managed to catch himself with his hands before his face could meet with the unforgiving concrete. Heart racing hysterically, he felt the countless amount of pebbles biting into his palms' skin, but the minor pain of the rocks were nothing compared to the way Raph grasped his upper arm and quickly pulled him back to his wobbling feet.

"Shit!" Raphael gasped, and Mikey could feel the sudden body heat of his brother next to him. "Damn it Mikey, be careful!"

"I'm s-sorry!" the youngest reflexively replied with a terror-stricken voice. Swiping his trembling hands on the sides of his legs, he wiped the lingering pebbles from his palms and attempted to calm his pounding heart in the meantime.

His clutch on his sibling's arm loosening ever so slightly, the older of the two shook his head with a frown. "This… this might be too dangerous, Mikey. Maybe you should…"

The way he drifted off did not go overlooked by Mikey. He knew that Raphael didn't want to say it out loud, similar to how Mikey did not want for it to happen. "I'm _fine_, Raph. Just slipped a little; no big deal, right?"

"It's gonna be a 'big deal' when you fall off the edge of a fuckin' skyscraper!" Raph barked, and Mikey instantly shrank underneath his brother's hurricane of fury. Shaking his head, Raphael quietly muttered, "Leo was right. This is too dangerous."

"Leo doesn't know what he's talking about." Shrugging off his brother's grasping hand with an attitude he rarely shows, Mikey repositioned his arms, crossing them in front of him in a defiant posture. "I'm not two years old; I can handle myself. I don't need you dudes babying me all the time."

Raphael stared dead into his brother's peeved face, emerald eyes flashing dangerously. "We're not _babying _you, Mike. All we're tryin' to do is help you out when you need the help. I don't see a problem with that, and neither should you."

He wanted to scream that there _was_, in fact, a major problem with that. He wanted to pound into his brother's head that all he wanted was some taste of independence, some sliver of normality. He craved to say all of that, and more. But Michelangelo's anticipated strong, outspoken voice betrayed him, and he was left with a meek, shaky tone instead.

"I just –" Suddenly, tears welled in the corners of Mikey's eyes, and he was so startled by them that by the time he realized what the sudden wetness meant, a victorious tear had already escaped. Trusting the rain rivulets running down his face would hide his sudden weakness, Mikey struggled to continue over the downfall of water but managed to keep his voice strong enough to be heard. "I just _hate _that everyone treats me like… like…"

Lifting his hands, he gestured suggestively, and his brother immediately picked up on the hint.

"Like you're blind," Raph simply stated.

A sudden lump in his throat constricted Mikey's pattern of breathing, adding to his confusion as to why all these abrupt emotions were overwhelming him. None of these situations were new; he was often denied access to the surface, he was constantly fussed over, and he _knew _he was blind. That information wasn't a bolt out of the blue.

_So why is this becoming such a surprise to me all of a sudden?_

"Y-Yeah," Michelangelo quietly stuttered, suddenly feeling small and fragile in his brother's presence. Another rebellious tear managed to slip from the corner of his eye, and he prayed to whatever deity was out there to pray to that Raphael hadn't noticed. A sudden boom of thunder overhead snapped something in Mikey, and before he could do anything about it, he burst with the flash of lightning he was not able to witness. "It's just… it's just _not fair!"_

The sudden eruption from his innocent baby brother made Raphael's heart sink along with any other anger he was previously feeling. Mikey felt the drastic change in his brother's demeanor at his final sentence, and suddenly felt very, very childish. He hadn't said those two little words since he was tenderly young.

The excited bursts of energy about a new comic book his brothers had found or the weird way a bug was shaped quickly sent the generally optimistic, seven-year-old-or-younger Michelangelo into fits of frustration and blistering anger. For too many times to count, he would sob into his father's comforting fur, wondering why he out of all of his family received the horrid curse that restricted him from everything and anything. Worse, it restricted him from his _brothers. _He knew that his disability created unbearable distance between him and his siblings, and yet he could do nothing about it.

And so, young Michelangelo sobbed, screamed, wished for something, _anything _to give him a normal life. But as time moved on, so did he. And now, after eight years of dismissing the thought of a peaceful life, after eight years of reluctantly accepting the fact that he was never going to be like his brothers – like _everyone _else in the world –, fifteen-year-old Michelangelo grieved for the first time. He couldn't find it within him to wipe his face clean of his salty river of tears that he knew his brother had noticed by this point.

"Mikey –"

Raphael's tender voice was cut short as the hothead's T-Phone sang in alarm. Tearing his eyes away from his brother's tear streaked features, Raph pulled out his handheld device and held it to his right ear while his other hand plugged his left ear, preventing any outside noises from drowning out his leader's voice. "Leo, what's up?"

As his brother listened to their leader's response, Mikey took deep, calming breaths, trying to find some peace somewhere in his heart. After a few moments, he finally found the energy to lift his hand and slowly began to smear the tears into the rain water that collected on his face.

"…Damn it. You're kidding, right?"

By the urgent tone those words were ushered in and by the way he could hear Leo raising his demanding voice on the other side of the line, Michelangelo instantly knew that his leader was certainly not kidding.

"…Alright. Be there in a few. Don't do anything stupid, Fearless."

Over an abrupt clasp of thunder, Mikey heard Leo's mumbled reply get cut off as Raph ended the call. Another rumble in the sky shook the youngest's core as Raph grimly commanded, "Come on. Apparently, tons of Foot just showed up. We need to get moving; no time to bring you back to the Lair."

Raphael didn't wait for a reply. As soon as the water-logged _slap, slap, slap _indicated that his brother was running again, Mikey clumsily followed. However, this time around, he was constantly stumbling over his own feet and comprehending Raph's rushed jumping commands nearly too late. He could swear that leaping the rooftops wasn't as magical as it was before; rather, it sent a jolt of fear down his spine as he thought of the possibility of him falling, something Leo had always warned him about, but he never gave it much of his attention – until now.

And to top it all off, the rain was suddenly feeling too cold.

* * *

**A/N**

**Hm, yeah, okay this was a very long chapter compared to the others. Sorry; Pezzii and I wanted to make sure everyone got a full share of details from Mikey's perspective! Speaking of that, how _were_ the details? Too many, too little, just right? Please let us know so we can improve(:**

**And I am so sorry for the lack of updates for my other stories! It is just easier to write Storm because there are two people going at it at once, which means chapters get written faster. I hope to have more chapters posted for all my stories this weekend. I promise(;**

**Thank you to those who have reviewed and to those who will hopefully review this time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

He's probably slipped, like, a million times by now.

_Curse_ his shaking feet- and arms, and legs, and entire body. The rain, although lighter than before, had combined with harsher winds and took a turn for the bitter temperatures, leaving Mikey's teeth chattering relentlessly. If he thought it was cold before, this was the grand cherry on top.

Raph, on the other hand, didn't seem to be effected by it at all- at least, as far as Mikey could tell. The call the hothead received from Leo must've been more urgent than Mikey originally thought, considering the way Raphael didn't falter once in their run to their brothers' aid. But just as they leapt another roof- Mikey's tired feet nearly slipping _again_ but he didn't say a word in fear of worrying his brother for a second time- Raph jogged to a stop, the decrease of the sound of his feet wetly padding against the rooftop signaling Mikey to halt as well.

"I see them," he said in a low voice, irritably. "…What're they doing back there?"

Mikey had half a mind to ask how in the world would _he _know, but before the words could even begin to form on his tongue Raph suddenly grasped his wrist and began to lead him like a dog on a leash. The youngest stumbled along with legs made of jell-o, and soon enough, his captured hand was set on something smooth, cylinder, and utterly cold before Raph released it.

"Climb," came the gruff order, and the dead-set voice made Mikey shiver for the umpteenth time that night. Nonetheless he groped the air wildly with his free hand until it made contact with another smooth, cylinder, cold something vertically parallel to the one already in his grasp. And then- hoping he was right- he raised his foot in front of him. It touched another smooth, cylinder, cold something that was horizontal, and his mind confirmed its belief.

It's a ladder.

Shakily, Mikey slowly made his way rung by rung up the metal, worn ladder. His moves were slow, methodical, uncertain. He couldn't even remember the last time he was on a ladder and this rackety, brittle contraption certainly wasn't helping his tentative fear. Every time the steps creaked underneath his weight, he winced and moved that much faster, which still wasn't much.

Minutes later, when he was only about halfway, a long-suffering, irritable, I'm-Still-Waiting-Here sigh sounded from somewhere beneath him. His cheeks taking on a pink tint as he muttered a quick apology, Mikey practically leaped the last three rungs to reach the top and hurriedly pulled himself onto a new rooftop. The pebbles bit into the back of his legs as he sat there heavily breathing and heart pounding from both running and climbing, wondering why being on the surface was beginning to feel like a chore, but knowing that he would much rather be here than stuck in the sewers while his brothers get to see all the action… again.

_Well, if there's even action to be _seen.

A few telltale creaks from the ladder behind him announced his brother's ascend, but much faster and confident than he was. A few moments later Raph's calloused hand latched onto Mikey's wrist again without a word, dragging him to his feet, and began to pull him with the energy of a child pulling their favorite red wagon.

Mikey tried to ignore the fact that a wagon was probably more useful than he'll ever be.

"Raph," a harsh whisper suddenly sounded somewhere in front of them, its tone a mixture of anger and surprise, "what is he doing here?"

"I'm sorry," Raph hissed lowly, continuing to quickly pull Mikey across the rooftop, "did you want me to just _leave him_ out in the open?"

Mikey was dragged forward a few more steps before being yanked down by the wrist, forcing him to go into a crouch. Almost immediately he felt the comforting warmth of other bodies surrounding him, accompanied by another strange heat radiating from something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Although it slowly began to thaw his blood, his curiosity was peaked, as there was something weirdly _off _about this warmth; but before he could question his siblings about it-

"Why didn't you put him back in the sewers?" Leo darkly demanded. The quiet strictness of his voice made Mikey's mouth clamp shut and his curiosity dampen. Leo wasn't playing around. "If we get caught out here-"

"We're _not_," Raph reasoned, his defiance held strong. "They look pretty damn busy to me, anyways. Aren't those the boxes we saw on the cameras?"

As Donnie confirmed Raph's observation- and even had the courtesy of explaining their estimated width and height and material and what they might possibly be holding- Mikey ducked his head and focused on the distant sounds vibrating through the soft drizzle. Every few moments or so there was a sharp bark of an order that was followed by clanging metal and murmuring voices. Far off car engines were revving and the smell of gasoline was pungent. The Foot were definitely working, and they were working fast_. _Mikey couldn't blame them; who wants to be stuck in this crappy, cold, miserable weather delivering boxes?

_Actually, _he mused thoughtfully over his siblings' quiet discussion of what their enemies were possibly packing, _it's not that cold anymore. _

The goosebumps on his skin had long disappeared, and Mikey came to realize it was because of that strange warmth that was still hanging around him like a heavy fog. Taking the momentary silence of his three brothers as they continued to observe the Foot as an open opportunity, Mikey whispered, "Why's it so warm over here?"

"The greenhouse," Donnie replied rather uninterested. Mikey blinked in confusion, making a little _uhhh_ sound, and Don must have heard him because he gently grabbed Mikey's hand and guided it behind him. It rested on a smooth, warm surface.

"We're in front of a greenhouse door," he continued, talking like he was teaching a three-year-old, and it made Mikey irritably frown and yank his hand away. Donnie didn't notice. "The glass isn't doing a good job in keeping the heat in. The shadows over here were the best we could find that was the closest to the Foot."

"Pretty lousy spot if you ask me," Raph commented.

"Well maybe if you sent Mikey back to the Lair like you were supposed to, you would've been here earlier to find a _better_ spot," Leo muttered, and the pressure immediately began to rise like a tightening string as Mikey felt Raph tense beside him.

"Listen, Fearless," he snapped with a crescendoing tone, "I wasn't just going to leave him back there by himself. Unless I knocked him out and threw him down the manhole, he still would've followed me. I thought you'd rather have him here than his guts splattered on the streets because he missed a jump between rooftops."

Mikey's breath caught. "W-Wait-"

"Raphael, why in the world would you say that? You're not helping yourself in this situation at all!"

"I don't _need_ help. I don't have anything I need to prove to you, oh Mighty One. If I want to bring him along, I will, and I don't need your 'help' in approving everything I do."

Leo ground his teeth. "You definitely need help following orders, in my opinion."

"Screw you, Leo!"

"Hey," Donnie hissed, "keep your voices down before fifty Foot start looking our way."

They paused in hesitation, but the two gradually obeyed, mumbling their lingering disapproval; but it was their silence- their ability to easily brush the subject aside as quickly as it came- that ignited the embers in Mikey's chest.

"Why are you dudes talking about me like I'm a- a _thing?_" he asked with a twisting stomach, "I'm sitting right here, you know."

The expected answer was immediate.

"We're not, Mike," Leo softly replied, yet instead of providing comfort, his easygoing voice only further pointed out to Mikey the difference of treatment between he and his two older brothers. The fact that Leo could go from completely pissed to teddy bear soft when talking to him- and _only_ him- was unbelievably stupid. "We're just worried, that's all."

Mikey smirked in distaste. "You're always worried, dude."

"Well, that's just in the nature of being a big brother."

_No, it's being overly controlling._

"That doesn't mean you have to be breathing down my neck, like, twenty-four seven!"

"We're _not," _the leader reiterated, and there was no mistaking the tone he was beginning to take on despite being at whisper-level. "We go through this every time, Mikey, and it's getting old. One day you'll understand that we only do what we do to keep you- and everyone else- safe."

_What, now I'm a _danger _to everyone else, too?_

"But can't you do it in a little more, I don't know, _humane _way than pretending I can't hear everything you're saying? I'm blind, bro, not deaf."

Leo sighed. "I know you can hear what we're saying, but that doesn't mean we still can't talk about you. You're our top priority, Mike, and we just want to make sure you have everything you need."

_What? I'm not royalty! I'm still your brother, I'm just-... just...!_

"I don't- I just want- why can't- _ugh_!"

Giving up, Mikey blew out a huff of dissatisfaction and began to slouch backwards with his arms crossed, knowing that there was greenhouse door behind him to catch him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew sulking wasn't going to get him anywhere, and he knew that he had to keep up a positive attitude in order to prove to his brothers that he was capable of handling himself (if only they'd let him). But what he _didn't_ know- or rather, what he wished someone would've told him- was that the door behind him was unlocked-

and he fell through it with a yelp, a backwards tumble down stairs, and a startled _crash_ on a clay pot.

It echoed in the quiet night, and for a moment, everything froze. No more murmuring voices. No more revving car engines. Just complete, deafening silence.

And then a loud, distant bark: "What the hell was that?"

"Oh shit," Raph breathed, and before Mikey could even pull himself off the moist ground of the greenhouse, before he could even thoroughly process what just happened, pounding footsteps began approaching them and Leo yelled an order to spread out.

* * *

**A/N**

**Wow, has it been half a year ****already? ...heh... I suppose time just flies by, doesn't it?**

**heh heh... yeah...**

**But in all seriousness, I'm so sorry. School and other extracurricular activities has had me ripping my hair out, and this Spring Break was a god send. I swear I've never felt so much freedom in my life. However, through the past six months, your guys' support has been amazing! I'm sorry I didn't respond to all the reviews I received for my last chapter (20 reviews, oh my goodness!), but I promise that I will this time. **

**This chapter is split into two parts, simply because sh*t is about to hit the fan. I've had to rewrite nearly half of my ideas of where I was taking this story, so the next few chapters or so might be a bit bumpy as I get back into the swing of things. Thank you for suffering with me(:**

**(Prepare for blind fighting in the next part. Oh boy. This is going to be interesting to write.)**

**Reviews are so very, very welcome(:**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

His first instinct was to run.

Run, at his leader's strict order.

Run, down the sewers to safety.

Run, right out of harm's way.

Run, like he always has; always does.

But as Mikey breathed in the musky scent of the greenhouse, he knew there was nowhere to run to. Outside he could hear the battle waging between his brothers and the Foot. Inside he could hear his own ragged breaths of anxiety echoing off the closed walls and bouncing back to him.

He was thoroughly cornered.

Mikey climbed to his feet, trying his hardest to ignore how heavily his legs shook. No, this was definitely not a time to panic. He needed to be calm, rational and open-minded. That would keep him from doing something he regretted. Hopefully. That's what Splinter would say, isn't it?

Taking a shuddering breath, the turtle absentmindedly shook his head almost as if to clear the gathering thoughts. There were too many, the lot of them too useless. For a moment he wondered if this was how Donnie felt for most of his life.

Closing his eyes, Mikey forced his mind to focus on the situation at hand. He had two options: hide until the fight was over or take a risk and try to escape the situation without being spotted. However, the noises outside were tell-tale signs of a bad idea; metal clashing against metal, limp bodies hitting concrete, grunts and groans of effort and pain…

and a muffled human scream.

Mikey's eyes flew back open, his body going rigid.

That isn't right. No, he must've imagined that, because it didn't possibly make sense.

But then there it was again. A shrilly, high-pitched cry of pain that surely didn't belong to one of his brothers; it was one of a female, anyways. It lasted for but a second before fading out into a nightmarish gurgling noise, and then going quiet enough to be blended in with the other combating sounds as if it never happened.

But he'd heard it, even if just for a moment, and only one thought went through Mikey's mind:

_That doesn't make sense._

Donnie had said this was the Foot and, if Mikey could remember correctly, the Foot was the group with the crazy guy who dresses in metal, his manipulative daughter, and- of course- their army of ninja. But does the Foot still have human ninja?

Mikey chewed nervously on his bottom lip.

No, they don't. They replaced them some time ago with robots. Or more specifically, Footbots.

_…Right?_

The youngest huffed in irritation, his fear momentarily forgotten. He hated that he only knew as much as his brothers would tell him- and even then, the rarely given facts were a bit hazy. Nearly every single day his brothers came back from their adventures topside and blabbered excitedly to one another, talking about smoke bombs and captures and lucky getaways, and Mikey merely sat there quietly collecting as much information he could get.

It was tiring, boring, and getting downright _frustrating_.

And maybe it was because of his frustration that Mikey didn't hear the footsteps approaching until it was too late.

Without a moment of warning his feet were swept from beneath him, eliciting a surprised squawk to burst from his mouth as Mikey went crashing shell-first to the ground. The breath was instantly knocked out of him and, desperately trying to shake the sudden fuzzy feeling from his head, Mikey grasped the dual weapons at his sides as he scrambled to get up. But before he could, another brutal kick in the side rolled him to his plastron and left him sprawling on the floor with a pained gasp, his nunchucks sliding who-knows-how-far away from reach.

And yet even through his blind panic, almost like a forgotten natural instinct, Mikey stopped and listened for how long the sound of scraping wood/metal against concrete lasted as his weapons skittered away. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when it only continued for merely a second. He could probably just reach out and grab-

A choked scream echoed in his ears as a sudden crushing weight stomped down on his hand, and it took Mikey a long second to realize it was him who made it. He frantically tried to wrench his helpless little fingers from beneath the shoe, praying to whatever god there was to pray to that his fragile bones wouldn't give out. But his panicked actions only caused the pressure to increase- twisting back and forth as the foot pushed harder- and Mikey yelped loudly, screwing his eyes shut as if that would make the pain go away.

"Damn," a feminine voice above him cackled mockingly. "She didn't tell any of us about a _fourth_ mutant turtle. Where the hell do you freaks come from?"

An uncharacteristic scowl twisted the pain away on Mikey's face.

"What does it matter?" he snapped, futilely yanking his crushed hand to emphasize his point. He ignored the small, Donnie-like voice in the back of his head telling him the struggle was useless and stupid.

A straining pause lasted for an eternity, the only sounds the muffled noises of the ongoing battle outside the greenhouse. Then the weight on his hand increased suddenly and unbearably, springing inevitable hot tears to the corners of Mikey's eyes as he cried out.

"Well, I guess you're right," she growled irritably, maybe a little smugishly, and he knew he'd done something horribly wrong when the familiar sound of a sword being swept from its sheath sounded from above him. "It doesn't."

He felt the blade-wielder take a stance and the air movement shift, and Mikey suddenly became possessed with a desperate strength he never knew he had.

Roughly jerking his numb hand from beneath the foot- and wincing as the blood started circulating once more- Mikey shot to his feet and began to quickly back away from the kunoichi, eyes wide and blood rushing. In his hurried retreat his foot tripped on a small pot he hadn't known was there, but Mikey quickly regained his footing, breathing ragged and uneasy as he began to raise his arms in a defensive position. Waiting.

The first attack came quickly.

Swiftly sensing the (near nonexistent) changes in the air currents, Mikey easily avoided the strike aimed for his head. He danced away, from side to side and back to front, hearing the familiar whispers of the katana as it cut through the humidified air. As he had no weapons, he had no attacks of his own; but when his foot bumped against the edge of yet another clay pot, Mikey saw his opportunity and ducked, scooping up the pottery- with its dirt and all its glory- and hurling it at the distinguishable blob of body warmth rushing towards him.

There was a hollow _thunk_ and _crack_ as his makeshift weapon met its target. The brief moan of pain from the kunoichi was quickly covered by a growl of annoyance, and Mikey barely moved in time to avoid the sword's downward arc toward his throat. He swiftly sidestepped the attack and- sensing the opening like a hungry wolf would a lamb- his swung his foot out and perfectly caught the ribcage of his attacker.

The girl staggered to the side, apparent by the sound of her clumsy footsteps. Mikey swiftly rushed forward, his fist seeking a target, but the other ninja was faster. She blocked the blow with her forearm and without a moment's hesitation sent a brutal uppercut to the bottom of his jaw, throwing all her strength into the attack.

A burst of pain flowering in the lower half of his face, Mikey nearly fell backwards. He saved himself with a quick backwards roll on the floor before jumping back to his feet once more, breathing heavily as he brought his fists back up in a defensive manner. His jaw slowly worked as he listened to the girl stalkingly circle around him, hoping it wasn't going to be bruised too badly in the morning. That'd be a serious downer.

She rushed towards him with a sharp cry of pure irritation. Mikey ducked away from the piercing katana and instinctively performed a low backflip to escape the strike to his stomach. He danced with the glinting piece of metal, moving faster than he'd ever thought he could. But as the time slowly grew as he twisted and turned, so did his fear.

This girl meant business. With anger as her fuel, her strikes were now more determined, more meaningful, and Mikey came to a terrifying conclusion:

She was good. Like, _Leo_ good.

Suddenly, almost as if the universe was answering his theory, Mikey's backwards momentum (created while narrowly avoiding getting a sword in the chest) sent him clumsily tumbling as he crashed into a small table he'd hadn't detected until it was far overdue.

Multiple clay pots and glass objects went tumbling down with he and the table, shattering on the ground around him. Mikey gasped and desperately scrambled to get up, but it was too late.

The kunoichi was there in a second, delivering a brutal roundhouse kick that sent him flying across the room, only to be stopped by the transparent wall. Although the glass didn't shatter from the impact, a spiderweb design began to form as Mikey fell to the floor, panting heavily and blinking the fuzzy feeling of exhaustion and pain from his head.

But his attempts to do so were cut short as the girl stopped in front of him, shoved her forearm beneath his chin, and pushed against his trachea- hard. Mikey made a strangled noise as he was choked, desperately grabbing at her arm to pull it off but to no use. She was incredibly strong.

"Well," she panted lowly, her hot breath brushing across his face, "that was fun, wasn't it?"

Mikey gasped and sputtered, his legs kicking weakly beneath him in an attempt to escape.

"L-Let me... g-go!"

She laughed.

"Do you honestly think that's how it works?" the kunoichi sneered in response, voice low and mocking. "Since you're obviously new at this, I'll let you in on a little secret..."

She leaned in closer, watching in amusement as Mikey's face began to purple.

"The enemy never lets you run free, mutant. Not without something to remember them by. Which reminds me..."

Mikey's eyes snapped wide as he heard the katana being pulled from its sheath-

and he hardly had time to react before a blazing, screaming line of sudden pain trailed down his left forearm.

A strangled cry ripped painfully from his throat as the warmth of blood began to gush from the gaping wound, running down his hand and dripping on his feet. Mikey kicked and screamed, but his efforts were fruitless. Again, the girl laughed wildly in his face.

"Ah, don't be like that! I'm sure that scar will be a _great_ story to tell in the future!" she said snottily. "The first thing you can tell 'em is how easily I kicked your-"

Her taunt was abruptly cut off by a wet gurgling noise. Mikey felt a hot liquid splatter on his face, mixing with his tears as the force on his throat suddenly disappeared. Too weak to hold up his own body weight, he fell forward on his good forearm and both knees, sucking in precious air. The gouge in his arm continued to spurt warm liquid, and Mikey shakily brought it to his chest as sobbing gasps fell from his mouth.

"Mike, hey, you're okay, you're okay..."

He nearly cried at the sound of his brother's voice. As soon as he felt Leo kneel next to him, Mikey lunged forward, burying himself in his sibling's arms. He sputtered and wheezed into his neck, his tears smearing into his shoulder as the gash throbbed mercilessly. It only took half a moment for the leader to notice the sticky, hot liquid suddenly soaking his plastron as his baby brother clung to him, and Leo pulled away, panic gripping his gut.

"Mikey- you're bleeding, where are you bleeding?!"

He hardly finished the question before his eyes found the splattering wound on Mikey's forearm, answering it for him. Immediately he ripped off his blue mask, his hands thankfully steady as he wrapped it around the injury to stop the worst of the bleeding. To his dismay the gash ran nearly all the way down his brother's forearm, not allowing for the single cloth to cover it all. Frowning, Leo reached up with bloodied hands and carefully removed Mikey's tear-soaked bandanna as well. He used it to cover a good portion of the rest of the injury, tying it off as it began to dye red.

While doing so, Mikey sniffled and winced, the blood of the kunoichi smeared messily all over his features. Leo glanced over to where the girl lay dead, her neck splayed open as wide as her clouded, glazed eyes and spilling dark crimson in a growing puddle. He quickly turned back to his work.

… He hadn't intended to kill her.

But when he walked in and saw that she had Mikey by the throat kicking and screaming, all honor was thrown out the window. Quicker than he would've liked, truthfully. It almost scared him to know he felt no remorse whatsoever.

"L-Leo," Mikey whimpered as the eldest finished pulling the makeshift bandages tight and helped him to his feet. "It h-hurts, really bad..."

"I know, Mike, but you have keep holding it upwards to stop the blood flow. Donnie will take care of it, I promise," he soothed instinctively. He took his brother's good arm and began to lead him out of the trashed greenhouse. Tables were flipped and pottery was smashed, but Leo was somewhat glad to know that at least Mikey had put up a good fight.

_But it wasn't good enough,_ he thought bitterly. His hold on his baby brother tightened.

They walked out just as Raph took out the last of the ninja, sneering a final insult. Donnie was crouched near one of the fallen, seemingly looking at something he'd collected, but both he and Raph glanced up as they saw their brothers approaching. However, they also saw Mikey's tearful and injured state at nearly the exact same time-

and the questions came fast.

"What the fuck-"

"Leo, what happened to his-!"

"Quiet!" the leader barked, pulling his brother closer to him. "We need to get home, now. It's bad, Donnie."

Mikey blinked the wetness out of his eyes. Bad?

"Fine," Don sighed, his voice getting closer as he approached. "But we need to go quickly. He's already lost a lot of blood, I can tell."

The grip on Mikey's arm squeezed a bit. "Are you going to be able to run, Mike?"

"I..."

The youngest paused, wincing in silent pain as his arm throbbed. The feeling sent the odd sensation of fuzziness to his head once more, but his growing emotion of irritation clouded over it in a storm. He already needed to be saved once tonight; he definitely doesn't need to be coddled over again. It's pathetic.

"... I th-think so."

Leo opened his mouth, ready to question his little brother's hesitant response, but the sound of a revving engine distracted him. He looked over to the source of the noise and watched as two vans of the Foot tore down the streets in a hasty escape, their back doors still flung open to showcase the multiple boxes they had packed inside earlier.

Leo sighed.

Mikey came first. The Foot would have to wait.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Oh man, this was a struggle. I had written this chapter about six times over a time period of several weeks, and even now I'm still not completely satisfied. But luckily summer break is just around the corner (only three more days of school left, thank the heavens) and now that I've gotten the pain of an action scene out of the way, updates should come rapidly. **

**Hopefully. Maybe. Please.**

**Feedback would be greatly appreciated! **

**(Also, I'd like to thank anyone and everyone who has ever reviewed EOTS. I've never received such wonderfully warming feedback in such few chapters, and knowing that you guys are enjoying this story makes me want to squeeze you happily to death! ^-^)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Hold still."

"Sorry."

"Don't flex your arm so much."

"Sorry."

"Relax your muscles."

"Sorry."

"Could you move your head? You're blocking the light."

"Sorr –"

"I swear if you say sorry one more time," Don threatened, pointing the bloodied needle at Mikey's face as if it were a weapon, "I will personally duct tape your mouth."

"Sor–" Mikey caught himself, awkwardly clearing his throat as a cover up. "I mean, okay."

Donnie rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn't push the matter as he leaned forward to finish his work. To his dismay, Mikey's legs swung back and forth over the edge of the lab counter, but the scientist held his tongue and managed to work around their annoyance. Somehow.

Nonetheless the stitches were sloppy, zigzagging through the broken skin, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He was a scientist, after all, not a surgeon. Besides this would at least do its job, wouldn't it?

He finished tying off the loose strings, wrapped gauze and clean bandages over the wound, then gently turned Mikey's forearm over in his hand in inspection. "There," he stated, pleased. "This should do it."

Replacing Mikey's injured arm back onto his lap, the genius continued, "The wound was considerably deep, so you'll be out of practice for at least two weeks– doctor's orders," he added sternly when the beginnings of a whine began in Mikey's throat. "You might experience some pains, too, but I have a few pills I can give to you if it gets unbearable. Just give me the word."

"Thanks D," Mikey said with a half-smile, eyes as empty as ever, yet Don couldn't tell if it was the leftover tear streaks on his brother's face or the forced cheeriness in his voice that he found uneasy– but either way, something wasn't right.

"Hey," he said, quietly, even though they were the only ones in the room. "You okay?"

Mikey hesitated; opened his mouth, then shut it, and instead gave a stiff nod in acknowledgement. Don frowned.

"You know–" he began, but that's all he was able to get out before the lab door suddenly slid open to reveal their father. Brow furrowed, Donnie rolled away from Mikey to start cleaning up his supplies and the youngest bowed his head and listened as the soft footsteps of his sensei was followed by two more pairs of familiar feet. If you asked him if relief was the feeling spreading in his chest, he would've denied it.

"Have you finished, Donatello?" Splinter asked and Don nodded.

"Yeah. A little crooked, but he should be good to go in a few weeks or so with the help of the mutagen," he said, wiping the needle with antiseptic. Splinter hummed in understanding and Mikey flinched at the feeling of a warm hand on his shoulder.

"You feelin' better, Mike?" Raph asked, giving him a squeeze.

"I guess," the youngest mumbled, flexing his forearm in a test. He winced. "S-still kinda hurts."

"Here, give him these," Don said, and there was a rattle of a bottle and the rush of the sink faucet before he handed Leo, who stood on the other side of Mikey, three glossy pills and a glass of water. "One at a time. They should be effective in about five minutes."

"I can take them myself," Mikey argued, though his words were a little breathy and a little irritated and probably showed exactly why they were babying him right now. Donnie shook his head, although he knew his brother couldn't see it. Force of habit, maybe.

"Make this easier and trust Leo, just this once. I'd do it myself but I have to run this chip through my computer."

Mikey bristled, but shut his mouth and held out his good hand to receive the first pill. As he popped it into his mouth and Leo held the glass for him to swallow it down, Raph moved to Don's side at the computer desk.

"Chip?" the hothead wondered, watching as Donnie plugged a small black square into the laptop and lines of code and random mumbo-jumbo flew across the screen at record speed. "Where'd you get a chip from?"

"One of the Foot I took down dropped it," the scientist explained. His eyes moved back and forth across the monitor constantly. "I thought it might have some useful information on what they were actually doing up there, since we, uh, couldn't figure it out ourselves."

_Thanks to Mikey,_ Michelangelo thought he heard at the tail of the sentence, but he wasn't exactly sure. Nor did he care, actually. Whatever.

"On the topic of the surface," Splinter cut in with a hardened tone, and all four brothers instinctively stood at attention. Even Donnie managed to tear his eyes away from the screen to give his full 101% of attention. "You four are forbidden to go topside until further notice. Your incompetent actions put you in a great amount of danger tonight, and I will not allow it. Especially when it could have had dire consequences."

Splinter might as well have pointed his finger directly at Mikey, because who else would he be talking about? Mikey scowled at the thought and grumbled beneath his breath.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"But sensei," Leo said sheepishly, like the words were being pushed past his teeth, "the Foot-"

"I _said_, do I make myself clear?"

All the brothers swallowed their groans and instead murmured in unison, "Yes, sensei," before the quiet padding of Splinter's footsteps led him out of the lab. For a moment, nothing but the incessant beeping of the computer could be heard, until Raph finally growled:

"Well this blows."

"This is probably good for us, anyways," Leo said, placing aside the empty cup with a _clunk_. "Now Don has time to do... whatever he's doing, and we can-"

"Sit around with our thumbs up our noses again?" Raph bit.

Leo huffed. "No. We can prepare ourselves better for next time."

"What's to prepare for? Dirtying up our shells just so we can get them waxed again the next time around?" Raph pushed, obviously willing to let this argument escalate; but instead of the heated response he expected from his leader, Don answered:

"Well, you might want to clean up your sarcasm and prepare for _this_."

Mikey raised his head in interest at the hasty sounds of Leo and Raph moving to Donnie's side. There were a few clicks of the mouse, a whispered "What in the world...?", then a collective silence. Mikey swallowed.

"What?" he asked. Then waited. There was no answer. "_What_?"

Leo cleared his throat. "It's just, uhm, some... weird stuff..."

_Gee, thanks Mighty Leader._

"Technically speaking," Don added, thankfully, "it looks like some kind of employee chart. Like _real_ employees, not just robots."

"You think those people that we fought up there were these 'employees'?" Raph asked, unimpressed. "By the looks of it, the Footbots probably could've done a better job than they ever will."

"Most likely," Don nodded. "Though I don't see why the Foot wouldn't just stick with what they already know and love. Finding all these humans must've been time consuming."

"Maybe these people can do something the Footbots can't," Leo suggested. "Or they just couldn't afford finding all that metal to keep building their army."

There was a squeak of the office chair; probably Don leaning back in exhausted concentration, if Mikey took a guess.

"Maybe," the genius agreed. "But hopefully I can find something more meaningful on this chip..."

The tapping of the keyboard soon filled the silence, and Leo gave a sigh. "We'll just have to wait and see," he said, tiredly, because nothing ever came easy for them and this was no exception. "Until then... how're you holding up, Mike?"

Mikey grimaced, tightly curling his toes. "I'm just peachy."

He didn't say anything after that, glowering at everything and nothing at all. Yet as Donnie kept on typing away, blissfully unaware, Leo and Raph exchanged a look.

o-o-o

Weeks passed. Training was bland, uninteresting, especially if you were sitting on the sidelines. Sleeping was useless, because it wasn't like he was spending enough energy in the day to require regaining it at night. Television was nauseating, as there were only so many shows a guy could listen to before he got bored. And if Mikey thought being blind was difficult, going without his dominant arm was near impossible.

It was truly torture.

Meanwhile Don was beyond himself, convinced that _something_ more was on that chip, it was just in hiding. He spent hours and hours holed up in the lab, only coming out occasionally to eat dinner. And even then he would only talk about how he just couldn't break the password the Foot had set on it, but he'd figure it out if it was the last thing he did.

It was getting annoying, really.

But Mikey bit his tongue during these rants, choosing to stab at his food rather than eat it, and listened to the conversation float around him. He was too bitter to add anything in himself, so when he thought a reasonable amount of food was gone from his plate so he wouldn't have to be interrogated, he pushed it away and journeyed to his bedroom for the rest of the night. It was becoming something of a routine, and for the past few weeks, the rest of the family let it slide.

But this week, on this day, Raphael watched him like a hawk.

The hothead strayed with the rest of the family at the dinner table until they were all finished; but when Splinter wished them a sad-like good night, and Don scurried back to the lab, and Leo routinely fell back into his own room, Raph headed straight for the youngest's domain.

He knocked once, but didn't wait for an answer because he was coming in whether he liked it or not. It hardly struck him as strange anymore for the lights to be off in his little brother's room. It wasn't like Mikey needed them, to put it bluntly. Still, Raph flicked the light switch for his own comfort and spotted Mikey lying on the untidy bed, face shoved into a pillow. At least he had enough sense to leave his healing arm hanging off the side of the bed.

"So I've been thinking," Raphael began as a greeting, shutting the door with the heel of his foot and leaning comfortably against it, "that you need to talk."

Frowning, Mikey turned his head to the side so his words weren't muffled. "_I_ need to talk?"

"Yeah, you. You've been completely out of it lately. What's up?"

The jokester slightly smirked.

"I'm fine, I guess," he said, wiggling his fingers on his bad arm. The stitches were almost ready to come out, Don had said, but it would at least be another few days. The thought was nauseating. "Just kinda hurts get sliced open, y'know? And, I dunno, 'm just tired from everything, that's all."

"Yeah," Raph snorted, folding his arms. "Tired. Right."

Well, the excuse was worth a shot.

"Then what do _you_ think, Mr. Know-It-All?" Mikey pouted childishly. He knew it wasn't going to get him anywhere but he didn't really have anything to lose. At least it stalled time.

"I think you're being unreasonable," Raph pointed out. "And I know it's not because of your arm. You can't just go from stupidly happy to moping for weeks, smart one."

_I was never happy_, Mikey wanted to say– wanted to just _scream_, actually– but he shoved it back down his throat.

Maybe that was the problem, though. His brothers hardly knew him, as much as they wanted to claim they were 'family'. Family doesn't seclude one another. Family doesn't dictate the rules, the regulations, the entire lifestyle of one person.

Family just... _doesn't_.

But this family _does_.

"I don't know what you want to hear, then," Mikey muttered, picking at the fabric of his sheets.

"The truth."

It was that easy, that simple, but Raph could see that stubbornness plastered on his baby brother's face. If he hadn't been so irritated, he might've thought they both mirrored one another. Laughing humorlessly, Raph shook his head.

"Unbelievable. Fine. Have it your way." He stepped away and pulled open the door, flicking off the lights. And as he left he dared to bitterly snark, "But if you think I don't know something's wrong, you're in for one hell of a surprise."

The door closed resolutely behind him. He walked a few steps away then stopped, running a hand irritably down his face. He wasn't going to get anywhere with Mikey, that much is for sure. It wasn't like he didn't _try_ to be understanding; it just never really worked out. Raph frowned.

Maybe it was his 'big brother' instincts (as Mikey called it, ironically) that stopped him from going into the 'it doesn't affect me, so it doesn't matter' instinctive frame of mind, but the hothead was at a loss of what to do. He couldn't just… _leave_ his brother like this. There had to be something, someone…

...and if there was one person who could make anyone spill their heart and soul, could practically yank what was truly wrong from the troubled's own lips, it was...

Raph hesitated, wondering if he should really bring outside help into this. Surely he isn't the only one who's noticed Mikey's attitude fiasco? Still...

No, Mikey needed someone to talk to. Even if it wasn't him. Mind set, Raph began to walk determinedly to his destination, when suddenly–

"I broke through!" Donnie all but yelled, bursting through the lab doors. His voice was insanely loud for the time of night, but it didn't deter him (or the wild sparkle in his eye) in the slightest. "I broke through the passcode! And I found something, I found-!"

"Hold it for a sec," Raph said, stopping his excited outburst with a raise of his hand. "I'll get everyone and we'll be there in a minute, okay?"

At any other time Don might've argued. But his adrenaline was high and his thrilling discovery was just too much to ignore, so the scientist gave his happy approval and slunk back into the lab. Raphael rolled his eyes and continued on his way. Brothers.

This time he didn't knock at all. Raph creaked open the door and slipped inside, crinkling his beak at the smell of burning candles as his eyes adjusted to the light change. Across the room a pair of dark blue eyes glared accusingly at him through the darkness.

"Yes?"

Raph sat himself down in front of Leo, kneeling, and sighed.

"I need you to do me a favor."

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Guys, I did it. I sat myself down and wrote and wrote and wrote. It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that much, but it gained my interest so much more in this story! I just hope this wait was worth it. Sorta. And don't worry; the next chapter should mark the beginning of the real down-n-dirty storyline, so just you wait! It's gonna be great (; But until then, have a mysteriously moody Mikey, an unknown Foot clan disaster, and an upcoming Big Brother/Little Brother fluffy moment!_

_because in my opinion, there isn't enough Leo and Mike fluff. _

_Reviews much appreciated!_


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